


Enraptured

by Kuro_iplrrr



Series: Sonatas [3]
Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Blood and Violence, Horror, M/M, Manipulative Character, Mystery, Yandere character, questionable characterization, stalker character, starts off sweet but slowly descends to madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22401949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuro_iplrrr/pseuds/Kuro_iplrrr
Summary: Eddy didn't expect Brett to confront him like this."Fuck off!"He should've known it would happen."Eddy!"After all that... well... happened."You're mine."
Relationships: Brett Yang/Original Character(s), Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Sonatas [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542460
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Enraptured

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: sorry for the long gap in writing. i'm diving into territory that this fandom hasn't seen much of.  
> this is not for the faint of heart, please be warned.
> 
> crossposted from wattpad. originally published 11.04.19
> 
> go to the end of the chapter's notes to see specific content warnings.

_November 12  
_ _10:13_

Eddy didn't expect Brett to confront him like this.

_"Fuck off!"_

He should've known it would happen.

_"Eddy!"  
_

After all that... well... happened.

_"You're mine."_

\---

_November 02  
08:03_

Brett liked sleeping in on weekends. There was something about the serenity of the morning breeze which made sleeping in much easier to do. 

But what he didn't like was the fact that he needed to run. That was one part of his routine that he wouldn't skip.

Groggy, yet determined to get out of the house and go on a jog even at- (Brett looks at his watch) eight in the morning, he stuffs himself in a loose pair of joggers and a shirt and bolts out of the house with his airpods carefully placed in his ears.

The gust of wind which greets him at the porch makes Brett want to crawl back under the duvet. _Can I have a cheat day today?_ He dismisses the thought and carefully locks the front door before dashing out to the sidewalk at a brisk jog.

After a few mishaps with the neighbors dog, nearly tripping his own feet while fiddling with his phone, and jumping ten feet into the air when a car honked at a motorcycle, Brett finally settles with Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 1, the third movement, mind you.

He settles with the upbeat pace of the piece, modulating along with the changes in the music. By the middle of the movement he's mad at the orchestra for making him run for his life, but thankful that they decided to kick it down a notch just as the next piano concerto rolled in.

Lucky for him this concerto is a lot slower, so he drops to a walk-jog situation as he rounds the corner.

Brett checks the time as he wipes his glasses with the edge of his shirt. _Okay, four kilometres done, let's get one more and head back home._

The street beyond the corner turns out to be a place Brett has never been to before.

It's a ghost town. 

And if halloween didn't just happen a few days ago, Brett would pat himself on the back for the witty comment.

The block was devoid of life, the once bright greens of the neighborhood now filtered out. The houses looked empty, grey, and dull. It was like someone put a de-saturation filter over the entire area.

_What the hell is this place? Why haven't I been here before?_

Only one house looks like it has been used over the last few decades, a house with a giant van parked in front of it, and a man who is hauling large, heavy-looking cardboard boxes over his shoulder and struggling to get his own door open. Brett contemplates before deciding that it was human decency to go up to the man and help him.

"Uhm-" Brett jogs up to the man, who didn't look that far from Brett in terms of his age. His brown locks falls over one side of his face and his sharp gaze meet Brett's. "Can I help you?"

The man sets down the box he was carrying to face Brett completely. Now with his entire presence, Brett notices how tall the other is compared to him. He catches sight of the contours of his arm peeking from beneath the white, striped polo he was wearing.

"Ah, I don't want to bother you..." The stranger begins, rubbing the back of his head.

"No, it's perfectly fine." Brett ducks to lift one edge of the box. "You look like you're struggling with all these heavy things."

The man scrambles to lift the other side of the box, matching Brett's pace as they shuffle to the door. "Thank you."

"No problem." They set down the box in the living room, letting Brett scan around the huge house he was standing in. He takes sight of the circular staircase leading up to the second floor balcony, looking over the entraceway. "Nice place you got here, I've never really been to this part of the neighborhood." 

Brett looks at the stranger, who is standing right by the doorframe, his arms crossed. His figure is enough to block most of the light coming from outside. Brett shivers at the idea that he was standing right in the man's shadow.

Just as the feeling comes, it goes.

"Thank you again," The man walks in front of Brett and extends his hand out. "I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Eddy."

Brett smiles and grasps the other's hand in a handshake. "Brett."

They both continue to haul boxes into the house, chatting sparingly while doing so. Brett learns that Eddy is a junior doctor working at a clinic not too far from here and he just moved in after performing his internship period at a big-named hospital from Sydney. They almost finish piling the boxes up until Brett sees something in the corner of his eye.

_Is that-_

"Ah yeah," Eddy follows the glasses-clad man's gaze. His features soften. "A violin."

Brett suddenly turns to him, eyes sparkling. "Do you play?"

The excitement in the other man's tone makes Eddy step back. "Well, yeah."

"That's amazing!" Brett grins. "Me too!"

Eddy stops to take a look at him. "What _do_ you do, Brett?"

"Well," Brett chuckles. "I'm the concertmaster for the West Australian Symphony Orchestra."

\---

_November 12_  
_10:17  
_

Brett leaps away from the hand attempting to grab his neck. He stumbles and loses his balance before his back meets the corner of the table. It pierces through his clothes and makes him flinch. He bites his lip to muffle the shout he wants to release. His incisor digs hard enough for blood to come out.

"Argh, fuck." He mutters out, tears threatening to peek from his eyes, and stumbles to his feet.

"A cat and mouse game, huh?" 

The question echoes around silent room.

"I like the game we're playing."

 _I'm gonna fucking die today._ He thinks.

_\---_

_November 03  
_ _15:21_

Eddy met with Brett for dinner after Eddy insisted on taking him out for a meal as thanks.

Brett wasn't a stranger to fancy restaurants. Every time he went out for dinner with the orchestra, they would splurge a bit of money for a nice meal every now and then.

This time was different.

Instead of being surrounded with his colleagues, he was with one Dr. Eddy Chen. Who, when he walked into the room, took Brett's breath away. Dressed in a crisp black dress shirt, white pants, and sharp brown shoes, he walked towards Brett with such poise that it made Brett forget why he was even there in the first place.

Eddy greets him with a bright smile, simply showing a card to the server who spent no extra moment leading them to a dimly lit table.

Eddy drags out Brett's chair and ushers him to sit.

 _If I didn't know better, I would've assumed this was a date..._ Brett looks down at his own state, a baby blue shirt, black slacks, a nice clean leather belt to go with it. He didn't look half bad, right?

As Brett sits down, he doesn't notice the doctor who licks his lips as his gaze does a once over at the man before him.

_\---_

_November 04  
_ _09:30_

Brett has a rehearsal early today.

His things are all packed, and he's lounging on his way-too-large sofa, munching on a piece of toast while listening to the news.

_Earlier today, a man named Cole Denvers, 26, has been reported missing. His last known whereabouts are at a pub, where he was celebrating an acquaintance's engagement. An anonymous witness from the establishment where Denvers was last seen comments that he noticed Denvers spent most of the night on his phone, where at approximately eleven p.m., he left the establishment._

Brett sips on his tea. _Jesus Christ..._

_Security footage are currently insufficient to trace his whereabouts._

A photo flashes on screen. It is of Denvers, dressed in a blue shirt and smiling directly into the lens. Another photo flashes on screen, this time it is of his phone.

 _Denvers's mother says that she received a message from her son. It simply said: **I love you mom, I'm sorry**._ _She says that it was out of the blue for Denvers to message her in the middle of the night, and after making some phone calls, she reported that her son was missing to the police. Denvers was a diener working at the local hospital morgue. Anyone with any information may contact the local police station at-_

_Ring~_

Brett jumps at the noise. He tears his eyes away from the television to palm his smartphone from the table in front of him. He sets down his tea.

"Hello?"

"Brett?"

At the voice, Brett visibly relaxes. He sighs. "Eddy..."

"Heard the news lately?" Over the phone, Brett hears a loud clang.

"What was that?"

"Nothing! Fuckin' cockroach going through my drawers, now I got pots and pans all over the floor." Eddy laughs, a blissful sound Brett wouldn't get tired of hearing. "Just wondering if you're safe?"

"Well," Brett stands and places his mug and plate over the sink. "I am... kinda scared. Like it's so close to us, y'know?"

Eddy hums in response. "Got rehearsals today?"

Brett sinks back onto the sofa, shuffling with some sheet music on the table before swiping them off the tabletop to gingerly put them inside a folder. "Yup, gotta get going."

The musician lodges the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he scoops up his things and begins to walk out of the door.

"Y'know," Brett mumbles into the receiver. "I'd, uh, love for you to come see the show."

Eddy is silent.

"I'm not- ah, forcing you or anything- it's just-"

Brett can almost hear the grin of the doctor on the other side of the line. "I'll be there. It's on the sixth, right?"

Before he knows it, Brett is driving to the concert hall with a giant grin on his face.

\---

_November 10_

_22:15_

He wakes up, his hands tied behind his back. He shuffles around, his eyesight hazy.

He feels the soft cushion of the bed, duvet and cushions so familiar-

There is a clang and he flinches at the loud noise.

He doesn't move.

His mind tells him that he shouldn't.

_I'll get hurt if I move._

\---

_November 05_

_20:09_

"I don't know what you mean, officer."

Brett hears Eddy's voice loud and clear even above the sound of the police sirens going off.

He senses Eddy's unease and walks toward the mass of people in front of Eddy's house.

"What happened?" His gaze bounces between the two officers and the doctor, feeling really out of the loop.

One of the officers sighs. "Cole Denvers's, the missing young man's, body was found in this block, considering that Dr. Chen is the only one who lives on this block, we thought it would be best to ask some questions."

Brett's blood runs cold. "He's _dead_?"

The second officer nods solemnly. "We're not trying to accuse Dr. Chen of anything, we just need some questions answered. It'll help us to find out who did it."

Eddy bites his lip. "I'm really sorry, officer, but I really can't tell you much."

"He's right, officer." Brett steps in. "We were having dinner that night and we were out until pretty late. We didn't notice anything wrong coming here."

The two officers share a glance. They ask the pair more questions before moving out to do something more productive.

Brett glances at Eddy, "They're just going their job I guess."

The taller man simply nods. "Let's get in, I'm starving. I want to have some of your stir fry, Brett!"

A chuckle. "Sure thing. Let me hear some of your Sibelius while I cook, hm?"

He nods, both figures retreating into the house.

\---

_November 06_

_21:28_

The seats at the concert hall are now empty, save for one. One seat where one Eddy Chen was seated, whose eyes are wet with tears. With the back of his hand, he wipes away the offensive beads of emotions and stands.

His phone vibrates. It's a text from Brett.

_I'm backstage. Let's go home together?_

Eddy smiles. In the few days he has known Brett Yang, he has been drawn into the calm yet goofy, cute yet suave, and overall complexity of the musician. Like a moth drawn to flame, Eddy couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

The way he played tonight was no exception.

The way Brett shone on stage was not unlike how graceful he was whenever he prepared small meals for Eddy or when he would play Tchaikovsky in the living room.

Eddy was so enamoured with Brett it was absurd.

Escaping to the backstage, flashing his showy VIP badge, and dashing over to Brett's dressing room took no less than five minutes.

The doctor pauses in front of Brett's door. He hears boisterous laughter leaking from the gaps in the doorframe.

Without second thought, Eddy pushes the door open.

He sees Brett and... whoever this _pest_ was, laughing at some kind of joke they shared. Brett was sat on his chair and the other man was leaning against the top of the dressing room table.

"Ah, Eddy!" Brett smiles at him and jumps up from his seat. (Eddy momentarily forgot his boiling hatred) "Thank you for watching, I hope you liked it!"

Eddy, with wide strides, goes and meets the smaller man in a tight hug. "I _loved_ it, you play beautifully." He uses his body weight to circle Brett away from the other man in the room. His back possessively making a wall between Brett and the other musician.

"Eddy, I'd like you to meet Jasper." Brett loosens his grip on the hug. "Principal second violinist. We went to uni together."

Jasper stands to full height. Eddy is just about as tall as the second violinist. "Nice to meet you, Doctor. Brett never shuts up about you."

At the words, Eddy feels a wave of pride roll down his spine. He peeks at Brett who was shuffling with his feet behind him. "Glad to know Brett likes me enough to brag."

The two shake hands but Eddy is only focused on getting the concertmaster to himself.

Luckily, Jasper gets the hint and says: "I'll leave you two alone," In a flash he's at the door. "Have fun!" He sends a wink and escapes with a loud bang of the door shutting closed.

Brett and Eddy are left alone.

A small creak and Brett is sat back on his chair. He lets out a loud yawn. "Em t'red." He looks into the mirror as Eddy slowly approaches him from behind.

"Brett..." Eddy, with a surge of emotion from what happened just moments before, wraps his arms around the violinist. "You were amazing."

Brett relaxes beneath Eddy's touch. "Thank you."

There are no words.

But their lips touch before they even know it.

It's nothing soft, nothing chaste, but pure hunger and _want_.

They part and Brett stands up to meet Eddy's lips once more in a passionate kiss.

Eddy bites down on Brett's bottom lip, causing a moan to escape from the smaller man's lips.

When they part, Brett chuckles against Eddy's neck. "You make me weak, Chen."

Eddy slides a hand down Brett's back and rests it just above the curve of his ass. " _You_ make me lose control, Yang."

And if later that night, the two of them were too loud, Eddy is grateful that he didn't have any neighbors to complain about the noise.

And he's grateful that he doesn't get to share the wonderful pleasurable noises Brett makes until dawn.

\---

_November 10_

_19:50_

" _You have reached the voicemail of Brett Yang. I'm not here right now, please leave a message after the beep."_

\---

_November 8_

_10:02_

_This is the second missing person report this week. After the performance of the West Australia Symphony Orchestra, last November 6, violinist Jasper Lee has been reported missing when he did not report for rehearsals the following day._

_Mr. Brett Yang, concertmaster of the orchestra, says that they were together in Yang's dressing room after the gala performance on Wednesday, but Lee soon left after Yang welcomed another guest into his room._

_His belongings were found inside his car, which was parked beside a convenient store. Security cameras show that he parked his car at nine p.m. on November 7, but his whereabouts are currently unknown._

_Anyone with information may contact local police stations at-_

The rerun of the television report ends.

"Okay, time to get to work."

Eddy re-adjusts the surgical mask on his face and quickly puts on a new pair of gloves. He grabs a small knife from the table beside him and begins. The small number of workers beside him all do the same.

"Jasper Lee, estimated time of death: November 07, 22:30."

Eddy takes a large breath.

"Autopsy in progress."

\---

_November 10_

_12:02_

The rest of the performances for the orchestra are cancelled. Brett is unsure what he's supposed to be doing right now. He slumps on the couch, thinking about how his friend, Jasper, who one day was having one of the best performances of his life, was now rotting away in a casket.

The thought makes Brett gag.

But even more than that, Brett thinks about Eddy.

Speaking of Eddy.

Brett grabs his phone and immediately thinks to dial the doctor.

The call takes a bit to go through, but when Eddy's voice comes from the speaker, Brett has half the mind to sound slightly happy.

"Brett?"

"Eddy, hi..."

The fear in Brett's voice definitely bleeds through the line. "What's wrong, Brett?"

Brett bites his lip. "Eddy, I'm scared..."

There is a pause on the other line. "I know you are... Two guys just went missing, who wouldn't be scared..."

Brett sinks even more into the couch. "Can I- stay- stay with you tonight?"

The idea makes heat simmer in Eddy's belly. _I shouldn't be thinking about that when two guys have just been murdered in cold blood._ He stops to check his calendar. He isn't going to be called in until next week unless-

Eddy refuses to think of the worst case scenario.

"I've got some time off work," Eddy smiles, his voice immediately going softer. "I'd love to have you over, Brett."

"Great!" Brett replies. "I'll be over for dinner, if that's alright!"

The enthusiastic tone of the violinist makes Eddy relax and spring up to quickly organize some things in the house. "Sure. It's a date, alright?"

Brett sputters before mumbling a small "Yes."

Eddy grins, the picture of Brett's blushing face making him giddy. "See you later, Brett."

\---

_November 10_

_21:37_

Brett is humming a tune as he washes the dishes. Eddy glances at him with a soft smile.

"Thank you for dinner, Brett." Eddy stands up and walks until his back is right behind Brett's.

"You're welcome," Brett laughs as he rinses the last plate. He really enjoyed cooking for Eddy. As much as he was scared of what was happening in the town, he still found his own solace in Eddy's embrace. He wipes off his hands on the towel and turns around to face Eddy. "What should we do now?"

Eddy slinks closer, one of his hands wrapping around Brett's waist and the other bracing against the countertop. "I can think of some _ideas_."

"Eddy Chen, you _devil_ ," Brett snarls at him with little venom behind the words, his gaze dark and teasing.

"I may be a devil but I can take you to heaven, darling," Eddy teases, his mouth diving to the curve of Brett's neck. He nibbles against the plush skin and begins sucking. "You're absolutely delicious."

Brett lets out a huge moan when Eddy starts going higher towards a sensitive spot behind his ear. " _Eddy_ ," A hand reaches up to grasp at the brunette's soft locks.

"Yes... _Mine_ , Brett." Eddy growls possessively, his hand sinking down from Brett's waist to grab at the supple meat of Brett's ass.

Brett groans, head resting against Eddy's neck. "You're also mine, Eddy."

Eddy grinds his crotch against Brett's, both of them letting out a string of curses. " _Yours_." Eddy affirms.

The smaller man pushes a bit, making them both part.

Eddy pauses. "Brett?"

The violinist grins. His eyes shifting from a dark lustful gaze, to one that was more... 

_dangerous_.

"I'll take your word for it, Eddy."

Brett reaches into his pocket.

And before Eddy can react, he feels the press of a needle against his neck.

A sharp jolt of pain goes through Eddy's veins.

He struggles, attempting to get back at Brett.

"Sleep tight, _Eddy_."

He loses all strength and slumps against the floor.

_\---_

_November 12_

_09:41_

Brett is outside. Eddy makes his move.

He urged Brett to let him out of his restraints and luckily for him, Brett agreed (not without some reluctance). It took nothing more than a glance which served as a warning that Eddy couldn't escape. They didn't talk much the past few hours, Eddy still hazy from the drugs and Brett still in the middle of cold side and the sweet man Eddy fell for.

Eddy didn't understand just how twisted Brett's mind truly was.

He stretched, feeling the pain in his wrists, the ropeburn from struggling was a sight to behold. 

_I need to get out of here._

He walks out of his own house, grateful to see the sky again. The clouds leave a grey, monochrome look to the neighborhood, not unlike the one he was greeted with when he first moved in here.

Brett introduced warmth and colour to his lonely neighborhood block.

And he ripped that all away as soon as it came.

He didn't understand if the missing person cases were all Brett's fault or not.

His brain couldn't comprehend the information just yet.

Eddy shuffles slowly to the house where Denvers, one of his workmates over at the morgue, was found. The grass wasn't the biggest of obstacles, but posed a huge obstacle for Eddy who had been woozy from the insane dose Brett had injected him with. 

He ducks under the police tape and enters the now empty house. His footsteps echoing hauntingly.

There are streaks of blood from one corner of the room to the next. No matter how much Eddy works with dead bodies, he hates seeing crime scenes.

_What the hell am I doing entering a crime scene?_

Eddy spares a glance at a small door where the blood trail fades into.

Without much thought, he enters through the door.

He barely manages to hold back from puking all over the floor.

It's a red room, stained entirely with blood. Knives and other sharp objects are placed carefully on a table, with something which looked eerily too much like a gnarly operating table.

He barely makes a step in before he notices.

Notices the giant text on one side of the wall.

 _I love you, Eddy_ is written in handprints.

Eddy is frozen in place.

_What the absolute fuck-_

He jolts when he hears clapping from the other end of the room where his eyes haven't rested yet.

"You found me, Eddy."

The once soothing, calm voice of the musician now only makes Eddy shake in fear.

"Now that you know, let me warn you. I'm _not_ letting you escape."

Eddy slowly turns around, the voice coming closer and closer.

"I don't want to kill you Eddy."

The words are not assuring.

"I just want you to be _mine_."

One motion later and Eddy feels the burning sensation of blood seeping from a cut on his left arm.

\---

_November 11_

_08:14_

Eddy wakes up from his binds once more.

The drug hit him harder than expected.

Waking up once made him vaguely aware of the facts.

_I'm at home. I'm tied up._

He looks around. He hears the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen below.

 _Brett_ -

Brett.

His memory is hazy, but he remembers Brett's sweet smile and the muttering of encouragement as the needle pressed against his neck.

Brett was behind all this.

_What did I get myself into?_

\---

_November 12_

_10:13_

Eddy didn't expect Brett to confront him like this.

"Fuck off! You're a goddamn murderer!"

He should've known it would happen. After all that... well... happened.

He bolts from the other house to his own. Panting heavily, sweat running down his face, clutching his bleeding shoulder. He isn't sober enough to think. He enters the kitchen, grabbing through his drawers.

_Fucker took all the knifes. He's so fucking smart._

"Eddy, stop running away..."

Eddy ducks under the kitchen counter island.

"You're mine." 

Eddy hears the growl right behind him.

Brett leaps away from the hand attempting to grab his neck. He stumbles and loses his balance before his back meets the corner of the table. It pierces through his clothes and makes him flinch. He bites his lip to muffle the shout he wants to release. His incisor digs hard enough for blood to come out.

"Argh, fuck." He mutters out, tears threatening to peek from his eyes, and stumbles to his feet.

Eddy escapes to the living room.

"A cat and mouse game, huh?"

The question echoes around silent room.

"I like the game we're playing."

 _I'm gonna fucking die today._ Eddy thinks. _Brett is going to fucking kill me._

Brett takes two tentative steps. "Want to know why I killed them, Eddy?"

Eddy's blood runs cold. He feels a few drops of blood from his arm plop against the floor. He winces when the sound resonates against the deafening silence Brett left with his question. The warmth of the man who helped him to move into this house is gone, instead replaced with the stone cold killer circling him like prey.

"They wanted _you, Eddy! And you are **mine**!" _Brett sobs. "Denvers worked with you at the morgue, didn't he? Fucking Jasper was eyeing you the entire time after the concert, the _mother fucker_!"

The sounds of Brett's sobs drowns Eddy. His heart throbs at the sound. _Brett..._

"I love you, Eddy!" Brett throws something which caused one of the vases beside Eddy to nearly fall over and shatter into a million pieces. Eddy gasps audibly before covering his mouth with his hand. Pain begins to numb his senses. "I want you to understand that!"

"You told me you were mine!"

The sobs continue and Brett doesn't speak.

Eddy hears the thud of what sounds like Brett's knees thudding against the wooden floor. He hesitates.

"Eddy... _please_..."

The doctor stops. He slowly raises himself up off the floor behind the couch and approaches the man sobbing in the corner of the room.

"Shh... Brett, no you're fine." Eddy places a hand right on his shoulder.

Brett slowly raises his head to meet Eddy's eyes.

"Eddy..." The man, earnestly clutching his bleeding shoulder, looks at him with soft, tired eyes.

"Don't worry, Brett..." Eddy wraps him around in his arms.

Warmth bleeds into Brett's being, dragging him miles away from the cold. 

He was safe here, in Eddy's arms.

\---

_November 23_

_12:45_

The two of them are on the couch. Eddy runs his hand through Brett's short locks, his fingers fiddling with the short hairs of Brett's undercut.

He remembers a song he heard on the radio a few weeks ago. It was a song from a band whose name slipped his mind, but whose lyrics were still engraved in his memory.

_who's that shadow holding me hostage  
_ _i've been here for days  
_ _who's this whisper telling me that i'm never gonna get away?_

Eddy hums the tune gently.

 _i know they'll be coming to find me soon_  
but i feel i'm getting used to  
being held by you

\---

**[end] enraptured**

\---

**Author's Note:**

> content warnings: emotional manipulation, graphic depictions of violence, homicide, criminal intent and death
> 
> endnotes: i pooped this out of my brain in less than 10 hours. i rushed the ending a bit but oh well haha. i was going to proofread this but i went eh;;;  
> btw please tell me if the story would be better told chronologically (with the events in order) or if this non-linear style is pretty good~ if people want a chronological version, i'll upload a separate version of this story
> 
> thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it and i'd love to know what you thought of it
> 
> instagram: dcm_chloe


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